


Are You Okay?

by erintoknow



Series: my brain has claimed it's glory over me [5]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Concern, F/F, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, caustic attitudes, deflect friendship with rudeness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: “What I want?” You push up your glasses. “What do you know about what I want?” You down the rest of your coffee, let the foul stuff burn your throat. You need a proper smoke. “Hell, honey, I don’t know what I want half the time.”





	Are You Okay?

**Author's Note:**

> Sketching out an idea for a second Sidestep character for when the mood strikes me to write Argent fluff

Argent stares at you from across the break room as you nurse the coffee cup in your hands. You return her gaze, unblinking. Trust Angie to find a way to stare down at someone taller than her. Finally you give a theatrical sigh and put your coffee down. “What.”

“You didn’t have to help.” She says. You wince, look around. No one else around, but still. Talking about this morning’s disaster between her and Macha in the middle of Cop Central is less subtle than you care for.

Rather than focus on that though, you take the offensive. “I don’t _have_ to do a lot of things, Silver Surfer.” That gets an eye twitch from her. Bingo. “That’s the joy in being retired, you know.”

Argent puts her hands down on the break room table, is she going to vault over and drop kick you out the window? She’s thinking about it… She’s thinking about it. “_Someone’s_ reputation is going to be hurt once word gets out. Isn’t that the opposite of what you want, Crow?”

“What _I_ want?” You push up your glasses. “What do you know about what _I_ want?” You down the rest of your coffee, let the foul stuff burn your throat. You need a proper smoke. “Hell, honey, _I_ don’t know what I want half the time.” You put the mug down next to you on the windowsill. “This ‘Macha’ jackass sounds like a load of hot air to me. Who cares what people think of her?”

“So Macha’s a ‘she’ then?”

Damn her. “Them,” you correct yourself. “Or him? I guess?” You loll your head back and give her a helpless look. “Look, who cares what’s under their helmet, huh? Probably a disappointment anyway.”

“Badb.” The way she says your name gets you to shut up. Cold and a warm at the same time. Tired of your bullshit maybe. Can’t blame her. You are too.

Wave it off. “Oh good, you’re using my actual first name now. Should I be worried?”

“Yeah… Funny thing about that name of yours,” There’s that shark grin. She thinks she has something killer on you. “I was reading last night–”

You snort, “Well, there was your first mistake.”

“A goddess, Crow? Someone’s got a high opinion of himself.”

You have to make yourself stay loose. Don’t tense up. Don’t show weakness. Don’t give her an in. You wave her off. “What can I say Angie? I hate my parents.” You’re proud of yourself, that one barely counts as a lie. You need to turn this around fast. “How’s _your_ family doing by the way?”

That gets the growl you were looking for. “You looking to get choked again Catha?”

You tilt your chin up, “I’m right here, you wanna go?” You can feel the frustration boiling off her now. You smirk at her, you’re back to winning the conversation now. That’s all that matters. You know hate. You’re comfortable with hate. Far better she hate you then… whatever the fuck it was she was broadcasting when she followed you in here.

“Look, look, I get it.” You offer a patronizing hand to her, safely out of her reach. “You kiss a villain and the press finds out and suddenly it’s all, _oh I gotta make sure they’re sufficiently evil to protect my own rep_. But seriously, I’m telling you: don’t give two shits about her. Him.” You wince. “Them.”

You watch Argent’s whole body tense up, ready to spring. Is she going to seriously attack you again? Then she exhales, letting it go. You find yourself letting go of your own breath too. “Crow, you’re almost as stupid as your dumb-ass fake name. It’s not _Macha_ I was worried about.” She glares daggers at you. “How’s that arm?”

You wince and touch your left arm without thinking about it. The bruises still screaming under layers of fabric and painkillers. “Just fine.” You lie.


End file.
